


Visceral

by Moonshape



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Although to start with it's only bdsm if you really squint, And the relinquishing thereof, BDSM, Bev has the kind of self restraint and boundaries which frankly deserve an award, Bev is the softest top of all, Control, Deanna swears and I am HERE FOR IT, Deanna tops from the bottom like a pro, Even tho no one even gets any, Eventual smut very likely, F/F, Feelings, Friends to Lovers, Hopeless heroines as always, In this house we like feeling feelings, No gays are buried as always, Queers in space as always, and i am not even a little bit sorry, let us all be a little more Deanna in chapter 9, my brain is pure filth, outrageously canon non compliant so sue me, yes I am taking liberties with how empaths/betazoids work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:22:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 2,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28594692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonshape/pseuds/Moonshape
Summary: That awkward moment when your insanely attractive best friend awakens your inner wish to be dominated by a beautiful, caring woman who you trust with all your soul. You know the one.*please note we have a new rating for REASONS*
Relationships: Beverly Crusher/Deanna Troi
Comments: 29
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [genius2mania](https://archiveofourown.org/users/genius2mania/gifts).



> Oh, be gentle with me on my first outing with this pair. Also, be prepared for tiny chapters which are basically all mood and (at least for now) very little action.
> 
> This one is a gift for a fabulous and ridiculously kind/supportive person I just had the privilege to meet. She's also the only person actually who has ever read anything of mine before it went up on here, so that in itself tells you how fab Genuis2mania is from my point of view 😊

The first time it happens, Deanna almost doesn't notice. It's a tone of voice, the barest hint of an inflection. Nothing more. 

She has noted her own attraction to Beverly and, recently, acknowledged its increasing intensity with a slightly disconcerted sort of interest. 

It takes her a moment to recognise what she's reading from the other woman - what she's hearing behind the voice. It isn't a command of the type she's used to professionally, nor is it a directive. But it certainly isn't a request either. Deanna feels the underlying, not quite unconscious wish to control. It is so brief she almost misses it. Afterwards, she wishes that she had. It leaves a taste in her mouth - an electrifying tingle of need.

As she walks away, something half-forgotten unfurls and takes up residence, quiet but insistent, inside of her.


	2. Chapter 2

The next time, they are in Ten Forward and it comes out of nowhere. Deanna has spent the evening bouncing between how alive she feels in Beverly's presence and all the while berating herself for it, mercilessly.

The brief walk to the bar is just what she needs to ground herself and untangle the mess of her own thoughts. But an elegant hand slips around her wrist to stop her and the grip is just a little too tight, the flash of possessiveness she reads from Beverly deeply primal.

"I'll go," the redhead shrugs simply and Deanna sits down in one ungraceful motion, suddenly as limp as a ragdoll.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So happy a few people have found this already. Tiny chapters are intriguing and frustrating to write at the same time so your comments/kudos are every bit as appreciated as always, gang! Stay warm, safe and kind in these times y'all.

On the third occasion, it hits her like a tidal wave, washing away any hope that she can ignore it, or shelve it to be processed at leisure. She realises she’s been on a kind physical and mental red alert ever since the last incident, trying to come to terms with the catalogue of feelings she seems to now associate with Beverly.

She is glad that they are already in sickbay when it happens, and that she isn’t standing. The medical procedure was always going to be unpleasant - that, she had expected. “I  _ know _ but try and stay still,” the doctor’s voice is soft, giving no hint of the quiet, exasperated tension Troi can feel behind the mask of professionalism. “ _ Stop _ wriggling.” It’s the flash in Beverly’s eyes that tips her over the edge into silently delirious. But then the words are what spell her ultimate undoing. “Do I have to pin you down, Deanna?” she says. 


	4. Chapter 4

It is something that, afterwards, Deanna plays back again and again, scratching at it relentlessly with her brain. It makes her feel she might be losing her own mind. Or, possibly, finding it again after a long, long time wandering alone in the dark. 

She had been so sure the poker night would be safe - the sheer number of people; the easy rapport they have with one another; Data’s ridiculous dealer’s visor. She almost survives the night - despite Bev’s perfume filling the air around her, and the way her voice wraps itself around every word she says. Despite the casual, careless way she runs her fingers through her hair when she’s trying to bluff. 

“Oh no, I’m out and then some,” the doctor says, throwing down her cards. And when Riker raises a sceptical eyebrow, she lifts her hands in mock surrender, a laugh spilling over her lips. “We all have our hard limits, Will.”

Deanna feels the words as though they are something sentient. They hit her chest first before the heat of them spreads throughout her entire body and envelops her brain, pulling her into that space - that exact, perfect space where she can fall, and fly, and forget. That place she is now hurling towards, unstoppable, her every thought of Beverly.


	5. Chapter 5

She starts to experience Beverly’s presence as a kind of white heat, one whose pull she can’t escape from. Remaining fully present in her own counselling sessions becomes an effort and she feels herself drifting more and more into that heightened state where even her own thoughts and feelings take on physical form. 

She can taste the maelstrom of her own emotions, hot and heavy on her tongue; can feel the minds of others brushing uncomfortably against her hypersensitised skin. The suddenly audible buzz of the ship and its systems leaves her exhausted, drained beyond anything she has experienced before.

Her dreams bring the opposite of respite. She revels in Beverly’s imaginary hands holding her by the hair, hard and unforgiving. Beverly’s limbs pinning her to the bed, burning against her own aching, powerless muscles. Beverly’s mouth all over her, biting so hard she breaks the skin before gently kissing it better with a softness that makes Deanna's heart ache long after she wakes. And Beverly’s breathy voice in her ear, letting her know she is  _ absolutely _ aware how overstimulated she is making Dee feel, then telling her to keep taking it like the perfect, beautiful creature she is.

She stalks the corridors shaking, drenched with her need to submit to her own desires every bit as much as to Beverly. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really appreciate those of you reading this and letting me know your thoughts about it so far, however you're doing that. You know comments and kudos and feedback are what this writer dearly loves 🖤 Have a feeling chapters may get incrementally less mini as we go forward 💚

Throughout the presentation, Beverly’s quiet professionalism and unshakable confidence has Deanna practically squirming in her chair. She isn’t sure if her careful avoidance of the doctor is making things better or just even worse. Troi finds there are days when can almost concentrate normally, although the dreams remain relentlessly explicit. She wakes up aching almost every morning, desperate to be reduced to a quivering mess under Beverly’s ministrations. 

But it is the sheer, visceral  _ impact _ of seeing Bev so much less often now which undoes her every time they do have to share a room. The elegance of her lithe surgeon's hands when she gesticulates and the effortless calm she exudes somehow call to mind a predator in the wild and Deanna wants nothing more than to be hunted. 

It’s only a few delicious seconds that she lets herself slide into a daydream during their staff meeting. But the intensity of it is so vivid she can feel the coarseness of the carpet under her knees, her mind buzzing with the imagined praise in Bev’s eyes as she looks up into them. 

But then there is Will catching her eye across the table with a barely suppressed chuckle and a glance at the doctor. They are on their way out of the room, mercifully free, when he mutters to her quietly, “ _ Damn,  _ Counsellor Troi are you in trouble there” and steps into the turbolift before she can even retaliate. She catches his eye as the doors close between them and they are both laughing at the truth of his words. She knows he can still hear her thoughts when she really wants him to.  _ Fuck off, imzadi.  _


	7. Chapter 7

It’s a sprained ankle that does it in the end. Holodeck safeties may account for a lot, but never for Deanna’s clumsiness and that over-zealous drive to climb just a little bit higher, a little bit faster. To find somewhere to put her pent-up nervous energy. The noise in her head has finally _finally_ dulled for the first time in weeks when she feels herself slip, an ungodly and sickening pain shooting through her ankle as she rolls over on it and winces at the pain.

She limps into the medbay spitting out a hybrid run of Betazoid and Federation standard curse words loud enough to bring Beverly rushing to her side. “I’m gonna need you to watch your mouth a little more in my sickbay, Deanna,” the doctor murmurs, easing her up onto a biobed. 

The waves of mingled concern, tenderness and determination pouring off Beverly are a greater analgesic than Deanna could ever have hoped for. There is something else there too, but she has no time to identify it before an impossibly gentle hand is on the back of her head. She can only nod when she hears Beverly say, “It’s going to hurt for a second when I first touch you, ok?” 

Whatever the doctor runs over her ankle works almost instantly but Beverly’s hand stays cupped under her foot, her thumb lightly stroking the last vestiges of pain away. And Deanna looks up then, knowing her eyes must be positively _wild_ but unable to stop herself. Beverly stands, reluctantly releasing her fully healed ankle but freezes for a moment - as though suspended in time - when her glance meets Deanna’s. She leans forward, and her hands shake as she twirls a tendril of long, dark hair between a thumb and finger. “You’re alright now,” she says as her fingertips barely graze Deanna’s neck and her voice changes subtly but completely. “ _Good girl_.”


	8. Chapter 8

Deanna wonders if Beverly knows how clear human thoughts can be when someone is so entirely single-minded. She wonders if the doctor can possibly understand that she just heard, as clearly as if it had been said out loud, “I want you so badly, Deanna. Like that.” 

She wonders and hopes, against all possibility and probability, that Beverly can read the answer swimming in her head, and her heart, and her eyes. “I want  _ you _ , Bev. And, more than anything, I want you to have me  _ just like that _ .” 

Which is the exact moment Nurse Ogawa walks in and the spell is broken, although the pounding feeling in Deanna’s chest goes nowhere and her skin feels clammy all over, unbearable inside her clothes. She watches them in the other section of the room; her Beverly _ \- could that really be?  _ \- and their colleague interacting as they would on any other day. As though everything were  _ quite normal _ and the universe hadn’t just been magnificently upended, forever. 

She doesn’t utter a word until she feels the warm depths of Beverly’s emotions wrap around her, clear for perhaps the first time. And then a possessive hand on her neck, as natural as breathing; as though they have been doing this for a hundred years. “Are you okay?”

“Mmmm,” Deanna says. “Little…..overwhelmed…..that’s all.” 

“You’re not the only one,” Beverly says, her voice full of a confidence Deanna knows neither of them feel. “Give me you hand. I’m taking you home right now.” 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always if you read and enjoy - you are *golden*  
> If you take the time to share or comment or leave kudos....you are just something else, and you make my writer world go ROUND 🤗
> 
> This is the end because I just liked this as the place to leave these two ..... but I am the definition of incorrigible so am *already* writing the sequel. SPOILER it is roughly 0% plot 100% sexy times so far.
> 
> Again, huge thanks and warm fuzzies to The One To Whom This Is Gifted, basically for existing and having the good grace to do so in my orbit 😊

She isn't gone more than a few minutes. Beverly takes a moment to look at herself in the mirror as she splashes cold water on her face and strips down to a standard issue tank top under her pants. The feeling of air moving against her arms is almost enough to anchor her in the moment. She still can’t understand what it is that she sees reflected in her own eyes.

When she walks back into the main room, she doesn't know how it can possibly be that her knees don't buckle. She sends up a silent prayer of gratitude to whatever gods may be for her years of dancer's training and discipline.

Deanna is on the floor, kneeling. Her hands are behind her back, one wrist holding the other and her head is bent, eyes lowered to the floor. Her hair tumbles down her back, loose and free, and the doctor imagines how it would feel to hide in its depths forever, never needing anything else. 

She is completely still, and completely naked. 

Beverly wants to scream at the sight of what she has wanted for so, _so_ long, fantasy suddenly brought to life in the perfect, gooseflesh-covered skin in front of her; a tangible dream. Deanna’s straight, pale back a shock against waves of dark hair, the soft muscles of arms already tense from holding their position, and her thighs - _gods, her thighs_ \- parted in invitation.

Deanna glances up for just a second but it is enough - her eyes glow with a trust so complete Beverly hears herself choke out a sob.

It is a long, long time before she can speak. The silence stretches out between them like a promise that will tie them together forever. She edges forward and kneels in front of Deanna, her body a mirror. As she reaches out and lays warm hands on cool thighs, she has to coil her self-control up so tightly it physically hurts. 

"You are so, _so_ beautiful." 

Deanna looks up, the trust in her eyes now mingled with something else. "I know," she says simply. The easy warmth of Beverly's answering laugh breaks the tension and lets them both breathe for a moment. 

"Not like this, De....we need to....I need us to talk about this first. Please, before anything else." The disappointed understanding in Deanna's eyes shifts to something akin to adoration as Beverly continues. "You had a nasty shock with that ankle". Her hands move to cup Deanna's face and the counsellor immediately nuzzles her palm; her wet, warm mouth everywhere.

"De," Beverly's voice is dangerous. "Have no doubt that I am going to give you _everything_ you want. But not if you keep doing that. And not until we've talked about this like adults." Her eyes move down Deanna's front hungrily, and her cheeks flush. "Fully dressed adults," she manages through gritted teeth. "Now, stand up." The eagerness and speed with which Troi obeys makes her stomach flip over and she finds herself digging her nails into her own palms to wrestle back control of her own body. "I'm going to take care of you, and you - I hope - are going to let me."


End file.
